


From Your Toes To Your Face

by fishfingersandjellybabies



Series: The Acrobat [1]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2015-06-05
Packaged: 2018-04-03 00:37:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4079917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishfingersandjellybabies/pseuds/fishfingersandjellybabies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick’s love for his siblings, and how they love him back. Could be considered after Dick’s ‘death,’ but not necessarily. Inspired by 'If It’s Love’ by Train.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Your Toes To Your Face

**Author's Note:**

> I had decided that I wasn’t going to start this 'series’ until after GTWK was done, but whatever it’s been a hell of a weekend and I am drained on any front you can think of. Wrote this back in November on a whim, and really liked how it turned out.

When Dick Grayson loved you, you knew it.

When Dick Grayson loved you, _everyone_ knew it.

A lot could be said about the so-called Bat-family. A lot _was_ said about their patriarch, about their members. They’re vibrant, they’re vicious. They’re talented, they’re terrifying. Their relationships are uncommon, unexpected, _unhealthy_. 

Hell, most of the time they said these things about _themselves_. 

But it was _never_ said that Dick Grayson wasn’t completely smitten with these people. Didn’t practically… _live_ and _breathe_ their existence. 

And it was never said that these people didn’t _adore_ him right back. 

But he didn’t love them through words. Never had to flat-out say _I love you_. Well…he _did_ , but he went beyond that. Gestures, jokes, invites, touches. Everything customized to fit the person receiving. 

Tim’s dearest thing was Dick’s noogies. His hugs. Embraces were something disappearing from his life at an alarming rate as he grew into adulthood. Something that was terribly underrated. To anyone else, it might be a small thing, but to Tim? To Tim, hugs and quick squeezes were a rare reminder. He wasn’t alone. He had people to lean on. Dick liked to keep that in his little brother’s beautiful little mind as often as possible. 

Jason enjoyed the drop-ins. He liked when he was halfway across the world, when maybe – _maybe_ – one person in Gotham knew where he was, and walked into a bar or café or restaurant and Dick was sitting there waiting, Jason’s favorite meal or drink sitting at the empty spot nearby. And Jason can be pissed, can be mad as hell, but he can’t turn that down. Dick’s been doing this for years and he’s never been able to. 

But they’ll sit and they’ll talk. They’ll poke and prod, both at each other and at their family. They’ll joke and they’ll be serious. Dick will never ask unless Jason is willing to give first. And maybe that’s what Jason appreciates about this whole setup the most. The loser is there because he cares, but he’s not going to force Jason to say or admit to anything he doesn’t want to.

Cassandra just appreciated his presence. She didn’t have a family before this, not really. And even now it wasn’t always perfect. Tim and Damian were at each other’s throats constantly, Bruce was stressed, and the other ladies didn’t come around as much. But Dick was constant. She liked when he appeared in whatever home she was in, their favorite take-away clutched in his hand. She liked when they drank tea together in front of a winter fire. She liked when he snored after he accidentally fell asleep against her shoulder during a movie. She liked that they didn’t have to speak to enjoy the other’s company.

Damian was grateful for his conviction. The unerring belief that Damian was _good_ , that Damian was _worth it_ , even as Damian sometimes didn’t believe that himself. When Talia disowned him, when Tim hated him, when Bruce distrusted him, Dick stayed. Dick defended him, protected him, even fought for him when no one else would. When no one had a reason to. Damian had never had that, had never _dreamed_ of having that, was never going to _ask_ to have that. But here Dick was, giving it willingly, with no request of anything in return. 

But Dick loved it. He loved showering his family with the affection that they needed and _deserved_. No distance was too far, no want too great. Not for him. But his favorite thing? His _favorite_ thing was kisses. Running his hands through their hair. Throwing an arm across their shoulders. Tickling their sides or their feet. Any sort of doting that involved being in physical proximity. 

And all his siblings but Cass hated it, or at least _said_ they did. Cass welcomed it, often silently turning her face, cocking her neck expectantly until Dick kissed her cheek at least once. (Dick always tried to defy her expectations though. Would wrap her tightly in his arms and practically lick her face, or pepper both cheeks with quick little pecks or lift her up and spin her around.) The younger boys acted so offended by the actions, all most likely in an attempt to keep some misplaced sense of masculinity. Jason would splutter, wiping at the spot of the contact. Tim would roll his eyes, scold Dick and tell him he was busy. Damian – cute little baby Damian – would blush ferociously, sometimes swing at him, and stalk off, muttering about Dick’s idiocies. 

But for all their whining, he knew they understood what the deeds were for, what it stood for, and they let him do it. They let him ambush them at the Bat-computer with a hair ruffle and a smooch before he flipped away. They let him fret at their hospital beds, holding their hands permanently against his mouth. They let him linger against their foreheads when he checked on them after they’d gone to bed. They let him tickle their toes if he caught them napping on the couch. 

They let him, because he loved them, despite their tempers, flaws and mistakes. He loved them _all_ , and they had nothing to give him in return. They couldn’t care for him like he cared for them, be it due to pride, upbringing or insecurities. It was impossible. So they did the next best thing. 

They let him adore them. 

But they always felt guilty, letting him do that. Letting him pour every ounce of affection he had into their lives. Not only because they couldn’t return it, but because sometimes Dick got hurt in the process. 

Their enemies learned quickly that it wasn’t the Bat you should be terrified of when you take down one of the Reds. It wasn’t the Bat who would swoop in and beat you senseless when you threatened harm against the Black Bat. The Bat was _hardly_ the most fearful thing in the world when you jeopardized Robin. 

It was Nightwing. It was _always_ Nightwing.

And Nightwing never went down without a fight, not when the fight was about his family. But he’d wave off the injuries. Laugh away the broken bones. Smile through the cuts and blood. Because this pain was nothing. Because he’d rather be injured than anyone else. Because due to these injuries, his family was safe, and that was all he wanted. 

When Dick Grayson loves you, it’s almost life changing. You don’t know how you ever lived – ever survived – without it. 

Until suddenly, you’re forced to.


End file.
